Damned

by K R Leikvoll

  “And what if she gets maimed? Or worse – killed? How would we explain that to our Master?”

  Varnoc debated my questions with careful thought. I did not care if Levia died in the battle, but it was something Vince would kill over. Even with Lord Nakarius and War, I still did not believe myself to be strong enough to defeat him yet.

  “If someone has to take the blame, let it be me! She is too precious of a resource to go unused,” Varnoc answered firmly. “I find it somewhat questionable that he didn’t offer her assistance in the first place.”

  I shook my head. “Levia is our Master’s precious treasure. He only keeps her around for show. Most would not think it wise to use the last of a species in a reckless manner.”

  “And destroying A’roha was not reckless?”

  “Why are you so bent on the Zaarian’s deaths? I know they have harmed you, but are they worth your very life?” I asked in confusion. Varnoc was fumbling with one of the Emperor’s trophies. It was the skull of a Kaz’moran or a child; it was difficult to discern.

  “I need to see it,” he mumbled, shooting me a tense stare as he bared his feelings. “I have to see Aresius’ remains or I don’t believe I will ever find peace.” I crossed the room to brush my lips on his forehead.

  “Healing does not make for a powerful demon. Rage… unresolved grief… that is the life you have chosen,” I whispered in return, pressing my hand to the Void’s brand on his arm. “When he takes his last breath, you will find you have not healed at all. Only suffered for a wish that can never be fulfilled.”

  After much debate with Raven, Varnoc, and Typhlon, I directed my brother to rouse the beast’s attention toward the west. The Commander would have our forces ransack Uxe for all the treasures it still possessed. They would be well-received gifts for my Master and kin. The Infernal Army, however, was ushered in the direction of Remula. I was unworried for their safety; I knew them to be a more powerful fighting force than anything anyone had ever seen, despite their small numbers at the time.

  Varnoc went with me and Leora, accompanied by the favorites of my demon battalion. Morgan led us over the rocky terrain toward the border of Femora, where Leora confessed Aresius was fleeing to. I think she expected to be executed before I found him. When we saw smoke in the distance after two and a half weeks of hunting them, she began to wail and beg for death.

  The idea of him knowing of her betrayal put her into a desperate level of anguish. She attempted to cut her own throat with Varnoc’s dagger when we were focused on how we would attack. He ripped it from her bound hands at the last moment with a vicious growl and knocked her in the head.

  “You die when we say,” Varnoc told her sharply. His hatred for the royal family was growing stronger with every moment he had to wait to watch them die.

  “Just kill me,” she whispered weakly, to which we ignored and returned to what we were doing.

  They had set up a small camp. Perhaps they thought they had diverted far enough to avoid us – if we were coming at all. It was safe to assume there were scouts watching Uxe, but if they were still monitoring the west, we must have slipped under their noses. It was difficult to determine if Aresius wanted to go into Femora or rejoin Gradelkine and his people. Though there is a chance he wanted to be a part of the final stand, I firmly believe that he wished to find a place to hide in the neighboring country while the conflict played out.

  Varnoc was itching to leave as soon as we decided on our procedure to remove the guards. I forced him to be patient and keep Leora silent while I meditated and communed with the Void. I wished for Lord Baelarius’ ever watchful eye to witness my utter devotion to Azotl’s will. Gradelkine and the other surviving rodents would need to be purged still, of course, but the Emperor was a truly grand sacrifice. I would eliminate the ten-thousand-year bloodline in one merciless sweep.

  “They are starting to wake,” a deep, nearly incomprehensible voice grumbled. It was the voice of Morgan, seldom heard by anyone, even myself. The curse set on him was hard to think through, let alone speak. He only piped up when he had something important to say.

  The guards outside the ruby tent positioned in the tree lining switched, some going to rest and others coming to take their place. I spent too long in my meditative state. It would have been more opportune to strike with drowsy guards. It was no matter, though – they were outnumbered by demons, not including myself and Varnoc. I had more than I needed to dispose of him once and for all.

  I mounted Morgan to assist the initial assault while Varnoc brought Leora in afterward. I did not wish to leave her unattended as she had done with me. It was an amateur mistake to make. My darlings were all too happy to bound down the hill at the chance of spilling more blood. I will always be in awe at the stamina of lesser demons.

  The guards called out, but it was far too late to be of any use. There were ten outside in total – not enough to bring a single demon down. I fired a few normal arrows from Misery, though it was hardly needed. They fell rather effortlessly. I made a mental note to thank James for poisoning Aresius’ father, as the old man would surely have not been so careless about his fate.

  When I threw the flaps of the tent open and entered, I was faced with six more guards between myself and the royal family. Aresius grabbed his spear, but the look on his face suggested that he knew it was over. I took on those in front of me; my demons ripped the tent apart from the outside and went for the few guards on my sides. It only took a brief, messy moment.

  Varnoc hurled Leora’s bound form into the ground behind me. He did not wish to wait, trying to cross the space to fight Aresius himself. I put a blade of War to his chest and forced him to stay. The Emperor was tensed, having difficulty choosing a target when there were so many. His wife and children sobbed into the back of his cloak, keeping him from fighting.

  “What did I tell you, little King?” I asked him with the pleasing sensation of victory washing over me. “All of this death could have been prevented. Did you really think you could escape justice?”

  “I thought I could try,” he replied fiercely, swiping his spear across the emptiness in my direction. I chuckled, thankful the Void had allowed me access to the vengeance I sought.

  “I am so sorry, my liege,” Leora groaned, pulling against Varnoc’s hold on her horn.

  “She was more than happy to sacrifice those remaining in Uxe to my dark Gods before she gave up your position. You must be so proud of her allegiance.”

  Leora continued to mutter her apologies, but it was not as prevalent as the crying of Aresius’ wife, Shalra. She pulled his arm down to force him to drop the spear. It was odd to see she was ready for her death so soon. I wasn’t.

  “Please spare my children. Let my husband’s crimes not be paid for by Kubbo and Elthra. They have nothing to do with this war,” Shalra pleaded. “Take us, but please… let them live.”

  “I am not without reason,” I told the quivering mother without debate. I needed a memento to remember my first war of many.

  I allowed my blades to dissolve away and reached out my hands for the children to come. Shalra knew better than to keep me waiting, or to allow Aresius to argue, pushing both of them in my direction. They were terrified, neither wanting to touch me. Their instincts must have been strong.

  “Don’t do it, Warden!” Leora screamed, but it went ignored.

  For when Kubbo and his sister Elthra took my grasp, I invoked the spell Raven had taught me before I departed Uxe, causing emerald vapor to cover their forms. I did not subject them to pain or torment; they merely emerged on the other side of the spell as undead thralls, committed to obeying me. Their skin had faded to gray from the shock of death – their eye sockets glowed necromantically purple.

  That was the end for Shalra. At the sight of watching her children die, she could no longer stand to live. She threw Aresius out of her way to sob near them. The grief was overwhelming her. She touched their cheeks and I watched the light leave her eyes. The darkness inside her was
nigh; it would have been a waste not to use the Zaarian Queen for my own needs.

  “Shalra, please,” Aresius choked, gathering her in his embrace and pulling her from me. I released the children, mentally commanding them to walk a decent distance away to sit and watch. Varnoc was enraged, punching the Emperor in the face and knocking him into the ground with his lover.

  “Not yet,” I commanded sharply, forcing Varnoc to back away once more.

  “What are you waiting for?!” Leora screeched, grabbing at my legs as hard as she could from behind. “Kill us or begone, witch!”

  “As you wish.”

  I wrestled Shalra from the grasp of Aresius despite his furious yells of defiance. Varnoc held his arms behind his head in a hold he could not escape. Shalra was not trying to fight on the same degree as the Emperor, crumbling to my feet without a will to live.

  “You are the only one worthy of my gift,” I told her in a cheerful tone. It was always a grand celebration to murder a vicious monarch, just as it was joyous to give offerings to the demons in Heresy.

  Leora screamed in a fit of horror and anger; it was the only sound that filled the air. Aresius was paralyzed, beyond being able to fight any longer. I cut a gracious wound across my palm. When I placed it on Shalra’s forehead, she let out a wail rivaling one of my own in volume.

  Her mourning had transformed her into one of the greater tiers of lesser demons – a spectral banshee. I did not wish to control her in undeath. I released my hold on her spirit and allowed it to fade into the mist, bound to the area of her death eternally. Or at least as long as Praetis existed.

  “How could you!” Leora continued to howl. I looked back at her rather startled.

  “Have you not been paying attention, Guardian?” I replied. “This is your punishment, not theirs.”

  I crouched down before the Emperor and removed his thick, silver crown. I watched and waited for him to react like Leora and beg for death, but he fought it, staring with hatred that even his ancestors could feel. Varnoc, on the other hand, was filled with more wrath than I would ever witness. He did not look like his soul inhabited his body; perhaps his vision had gone black in rage and he had fallen into a state of bloodlust.

  “You know, I really was expecting more,” I toyed as I set the Emperor’s crown on my head and smoothed my hair underneath it so it wouldn’t fall.

  “I wanted for our conflict to be one of grandeur – a tale of brutal war and triumph over all odds. Instead, Diam’s supposed leader of disorder ate my blade. Your capital crumbled like sand even with an advantage and a spear at my throat. Now, you sit in the dirt, at my mercy, bringing this story to a close before I was ready.

  “The way that you demanded expansion in our first meeting together – this is the result of failed conquests. Whilst you drank your wine and looked down on us, you ignited the genocide of your own. I thought Leora to be selfish and honorless, but… she learned it from your family in the first place.

  “I could have spared your people, but what is the use? You pushed war knowing there was a chance you could lose your Empire. Besides, I doubt you would have committed anything less than total extermination of the Femorans and Evyans during your rule.

  “So, do not look at me as a villain extinguishing your existence – know me as the reflection of your own actions.”

  I stood and cut the bindings on Leora’s wrists. As my skin brushed her, I channeled a hex into her being, demanding her body to obey my will. I thought it hadn’t worked at first, but she shuddered and began to hyperventilate when she realized she could no longer control her limbs, reaching out in front of her.

  Varnoc adjusted his grip on the Emperor, holding his arms back so he could not defend himself. I removed my companion’s dagger from his side, somewhat drunk off of my euphoric state, and held it out to Leora’s outstretched grasp. Though she fought taking it, my spell was ultimately too forceful to stifle.

  “In the name of Lord Vincent Lyon, and by the will of Naazvaba, I sentence you, Aresius – thirty-third of his name – to death,” I declared. Against her will, Leora raised the dagger above her.

  “Leora,” Aresius uttered to draw his guardian’s attention.

  “I’m sorry –” she sobbed, but he interrupted her.

  “This was not your fault,” he began.

  I would have gone back on my word if I showed him any courtesies on his way to the Void. With the wave of my hand, Leora stabbed him in the chest.

  “Hold none of the guilt,” Aresius continued with a pained sputter.

  Leora removed the blade, trying to refuse to do more to her sacred Emperor, but the force of magic was greater than her will. The dagger was plunged another thirty-two times into his thorax, for every Emperor with the same title. He almost did not survive the assault.

  Varnoc released his arms and grabbed his hair. I shoved Leora out of my way; she was content to bury her face. I took the blade from his chest. He was starting to drown in his blood, leaving no more time to relish in his death. I wrapped the dagger around my palm to coat it with my liquid curse.

  “Enjoy your eternity,” I wished him sincerely. I was almost jealous he got to return to my home before me.

  I pushed the knife into his throat quickly, using the blessed strength of War to cut his head from his body.

  Aresius fell, decapitated, while I stared into his eyes, so full of suffering and rage. It was beautiful to me. Everything in that moment was – Leora’s sobs, the howling of Morgan and my legion of demons, the choir of joy in my mind. Ecstasy consumed me, more pleasing than any other sensation I had ever felt. No substance, climax or demonic bond could compare.

  I was victorious.

  The Emperor of the biggest kingdom in Kaeda was an ashy corpse. Perhaps Vincent’s abilities were not as out of reach as I originally believed.

  Aresius’ head was placed in a rather ornate silk bag I had brought from Uxe. I tied it to Morgan’s side so it would not be misplaced or stolen. The undead children would go with my demons so they could be delivered to my Master as gifts and evidence of my deeds.

  That only left one person to deal with.

  “What do you feel?” I wished to know if Varnoc had returned from his rage.

  “Nothing,” he said disgusted, glancing down at the ashes. “You were correct it seems.”

  Leora distracted us as she began to crawl to his remains near our boots. Her shaking form felt it between her fingertips.

  “What do we do with this one?” Varnoc inquired using his foot to turn her face to the side. She had little drive to fight it.

  “Whatever you desire. Consider it your payment for loyal service.”

  I laid down on the portion of the Emperor’s bed free of rubble and stared at the lavender sky. Pure elation is the only way I could describe how Lord Nakarius felt in response to my sacrifice. Aresius was likely to find his home in the Hall of Kings as a prisoner in the realm of Fraud. It would grant Naazvaba a decent power source until the next monarch fell victim to my blades.

  Leora lost the strength to fight for her life long before Varnoc began to have his way with her in every method he saw fit. Even eating her was not out of his realm of longings, though it was usually Raven’s habit. I did not mind – her screams were growing softer as she ran out of strength and blood. I was more focused on allowing Varnoc to have his justice and revenge. It was what I sought so deeply for myself – giving it to my demonic son was the best blessing I could come up with. It was one that Lydris would never be graced to have.

  The deadened, dark flowers growing from the trees surrounding us billowed in the wind. The cries it made as the gust passed through the mountains were ones of grief.

  And with the Emperor, so would the Empire fall.

  Those traveling with me met Raven and my legion of monsters in our planned location outside of Remula’s territory. He knew immediately I was triumphant in my conquest, rushing to Morgan’s side and holding out his hand. I temporarily removed Aresius’ crown fro
m my head so he could examine it and have his own joyous rush of victory.

  “Did he beg?” Raven asked when he handed the crown back.

  “The Emperor – no, but his wife wanted a favor,” I replied, pointing to the children being lowered to the ground by demons behind us. They had grown cold and zombie-like the longer they were gripped by undeath.

  “My, my.”

  Raven was in love with them, naturally. He brushed their cheeks and rustled their hair, admiring them from every angle. It was a shame they were already promised gifts for our Master. I am sure Raven would have cherished them for a long time.

  “You are beautiful, but you already know that I’ll bet,” he said to Princess Elthra. She had the same face as Shalra with her father’s slanted, now purple, eyes. He turned his attention to me and helped me off of Morgan’s back. “They will be preserved forever, my Queen. Zaar is undeserving of your mercy.”

  Varnoc scoffed. He was particularly sensitive about his people being changed and sacrificed to the Void, but it was selfish. The Zaarians were not a special case, doomed to usher in the Infernal Army. They were the first of many that would fall victim to the same fate. The children had especially upset him, though he had not felt that way when they were initially cursed.

  “Were you successful?” I inquired of Raven to avoid a fight that was sure to occur between him and Varnoc without intervention. His eyes glimmered with his answer and he gestured to the sky.

  “It took a lot of persuading, but the Progeny of Asinea agreed to help. I might have lied to her about it being on our Master’s orders, however.”

  “Don’t worry about that. Varnoc has graciously volunteered to take the blame if it should come to it.”

  Varnoc looked queasy at the idea. At the time he said he would be the responsible party, he was driven by revenge. Bringing an end to the Zaarian monarch’s lineage had not brought him peace as he expected. I could feel the emptiness ringing through his soul as if it were my own. I knew he was befallen to some sort of existential crisis. It was causing him to think clearer on the idea of being punished by Vince. He knew of my trip beneath the earth, but he did not realize how much worse it could get.